Page 105 of Victorious: Part 3
Maverick sits down beside me, his hand finding my back. Thegesture is simple, wordless, but it says everything.
We’re here.
You’re not alone.
We grieve with you.
Through my own tears, I look around at these people who have become family. Each one of them sitting on the floor, surrounding us with their silent support. Rip has his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him. Clover is staring at the ceiling, blinking hard, trying to fight her tears. Ink, fuck! Ink looks like he’s been gutted as Nighthawk wraps her arm around him for comfort. The rest of them sit in various states of disarray.
But they’re all here.
In this moment of terrible loss, they are showing up.
Even though they have just fought a war.
Even though they are tired.
Not with words or platitudes, but with presence.
With the quiet strength of brotherhood.
Ingrid’s sobs send an ache through my chest, her tears soaking through my shirt. I hold her tighter, my own emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
Hurricane is gone.
The man who welcomed me into his family, who gave me a place to belong, who treated Ingrid like the mother he always wanted.
He’s gone.
I think about the enigma that he was, about his laugh, his fierce protectiveness, even when I first started dating Ingrid. It took him a lot to wrap his head around it, considering the age gap. But all he wanted was for his mom to be happy, and when he finally figured out that I did that, he accepted me into his family.
The way he lit up when he talked about them was somethingI hadn’t seen from someone whose family was so unusual. Fuck, the man had so much damn love to give. What I admired most was how he supported Ingrid and me moving to LA when we found out about Bella. How he moved heaven and earth to make sure we could be together, even if it meant us leaving him behind to take care of my family.
We walked away from her family to do that.
Still, the most admirable thing about Hurricane was that he died saving people.
Because that’s who he was.
A fucking hero.
“He loved you,” I tell Ingrid, the words coming from somewhere deep and true, my hand caressing her tear-soaked cheek. “You know that, right? You were his family. You and Louis, we all were. And he died knowing that. He died knowing he was protecting the people he loved.”
Ingrid looks up at me, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. “I need to go home,” she whispers, so only I can hear. “I need to be with my family. With Hurricane’s family. With Kaia and the babies and—”
“We will,” I promise her. “As soon as we can, we’ll go home.”
Because that’s what this is about.Family.The family Hurricane built, the family he died protecting. The family that is sitting around us right now, sharing our grief because it’s their grief too.
It will be hard to leave one for the other.
But we’ve done it once before, and we can do it again.
Maverick’s hand is still on my back, steady and warm. Around us, our LA family sits in silence, their presence a testament to the bonds that tie us together.
Bonds that death can’t break.
I look down at Ingrid, at this woman I love more than life itself. I hold her tight as she continues to sob into my chest, and Imake a silent promise to her, to Louis, to Hurricane’s memory…
